


the power of a word

by kerrykins



Series: author's favs [1]
Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2020-03-09 18:25:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18922582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kerrykins/pseuds/kerrykins
Summary: Miranda and Andy worry about word choice.





	the power of a word

Miranda Priestly stares at her reflection in the mirror under the fluorescent lights as if truly seeing it for the first time.

She’s heard the word thrown around plenty of times. It is almost always said with contempt or disgust. _Did you hear that she’s a lesbian, is she really a lesbian, are you a lesbian?_ It’s a beautiful word that’s been turned ugly. Even worse is ‘dyke.’ It’s one, punctuating syllable that makes Miranda’s entire body tense up.

 

‘Lesbian’ may induce waves of nausea, but ‘dyke’ is like a single bullet to her chest. She has thought about it before, more than anyone needs to know, but she’s come to the conclusion that lesbian really is a pretty word. It rolls off the tongue easily, an entire melody in one word. In that way, it’s similar to a lot of words Miranda adores— quintessential, portmanteau, _Andrea._

 

Miranda has found herself wondering what it would be like to have Andrea literally roll off of her tongue. She isn’t sure if she wants to find that out or not, but like appraising the worth of ‘lesbian,’ she’s given the matter a considerable amount of thought. Sex with Stephen is always filthy and wrong on so many levels, but she endures it for her daughters, who don’t deserve to be subjected to another divorce. Miranda is a very cautious person and always has been, but she has to admit that all of her marriages have been rushed— some kind of misguided effort to convince herself she wasn’t anything more than heterosexual. And now she’s suffering the consequences.

 

The problem is that when Miranda looks at herself in the mirror, she can’t see the word ‘lesbian’ belonging to her. There’s ‘tired’ and ‘successful’ among many others in her plexus of characteristics, but never that one word. Nevermind ‘dyke.’

 

In some ways, it’s reminiscent of how she felt in her youth. ‘Miriam Princhek’ hadn’t suited her either, even though the name sounded like tulip petals unfurling in the morning sun, and was much prettier than ‘Miranda Priestly.’ The reason why she changed it was not one of choice but necessity— that name was the last of her past to go, and in order to fully move forward, she needed to leave all of it behind. Besides, the name wasn’t hers, anyways. Her mother had given it to her.

 

The point is, Miranda’s current situation is far from ideal. It’s taken her fifteen years to make a name for herself in fashion, nine years to raise two amazing children, but fifty years to realise that she’s attracted to women. And not even remotely attracted to men. Miranda’s willing to cut herself some slack, though— she’d simply been too busy to notice.

 

So now that word envelopes Miranda like an oversized, stifling sweater.

 

‘Lesbian.’

 

Miranda wishes that it were possible to somehow tailor it into something more flattering.

 

___

 

Andy Sachs knows a lot about words. She has an impressive vocabulary.

 

Yet words cannot even come close to how she feels about Miranda Priestly. ‘Enamored’ and ‘crazy’ are a good place to start, but they paint a small picture for someone with such a large presence.

 

Miranda is a never-ending monologue— not in the way of words, as she actually says very little. She doesn’t need to as she’s wonderfully expressive, her hands and face constantly in motion. Miranda’s words may sting, but they pale in comparison to the kind of looks that flicker across her face. Andy has never really been a visual person, or but there’s something about Miranda that breaks everything Andy thinks true and totally reinvents it. Most of the time, Andy hates being wrong, but Miranda brings with her a new discovery every moment they spend together. It’s hard to be mad about learning the intimate little details of a person’s character, especially when you’re sort-of-not-really-maybe in love with them.

 

Andy is not at all surprised by the attraction she feels towards Miranda. She’s known about her bisexuality for a very long time. But falling for her middle-aged curmudgeon of a boss is definitely something new. Something good? That’s yet to be decided.

 

Andy doesn’t know if this is a just a temporary crush, or if it’s something more, but either way she’s always on edge. Even though she hasn’t breathed a word about this to anyone, she can’t help but be worried about Miranda catching onto it. All it could take is one misstep. So Andy treads as carefully as she can and keeps her emotions in check. At work she has to pretend she doesn’t fuck herself at home, wishing for Miranda’s fingers instead of her own, or that her heart doesn’t fly five feet into the air when Miranda half-smiles at something she says.

 

Being in love with Miranda Priestly won’t do her any favours and is painful at times. But Andy knows this is just the way things are, and there’s nothing that will make her stop loving her.

 

___

 

Miranda Priestly’s in love with Andrea Sachs, though it isn’t very obvious. Miranda’s never been in love before, or at least never like this. It began as curiosity, which manifested into begrudging respect, then trust, and so on. She knows it sounds like a cliche— older executive screwing the younger assistant due to some midlife crisis— but it’s not. Firstly, they’re not screwing each other and secondly, Miranda needs a lot more than sex from Andrea. She thinks it would be something like the warmth of the younger woman’s hand in hers, or the weight of her head on Miranda’s shoulder. The little, irrelevant things, because Miranda’s life is a flurry of activity that’s already overwhelming.

 

It’s all too much— the smiles Andrea gives Miranda feel exclusive to her. When she’s taking notes on what Miranda’s saying, Andrea’s hand flies across the page yet her gaze remains trained on Miranda. The best thing about her is how in sync she is with Miranda’s wants and needs. When a shoot or runthrough goes poorly, Miranda can always count on Andrea to improve her mood with a cup of coffee or simply her company. She just hopes the younger woman can’t see how helplessly infatuated she is, on a level that is probably detrimental to her health. Miranda is lightheaded all the time and it’s becoming increasingly harder to fight back a smile whenever she sees Andrea.

 

So far she’s been doing an adequate job— forbidding her to ride in the elevators with her, constantly sending her out on errands, tearing the girl down for the smallest of infractions— but Miranda can’t bear to see that helpless, broken look in Andrea’s eyes over and over again. On occasion she’s been tempted to do or say something. But just in time she remembers herself.

 

She is Miranda Priestly and being a ‘lesbian’ is not stylish. It’s not even a word her brain is capable of affiliating with herself yet.

 

So Miranda does nothing and continues to suffer in silence.

 

___

 

Andy doesn’t know what she’s thinking when she kisses Miranda. It’s just the two of them in the elevator, and they haven’t shared the same space like this for so long. When her lips brush against Miranda’s, she feels the older woman’s body tense against hers. Andy thinks she’s going to hit her or ask her what the hell she’s doing, but Miranda doesn’t. She simply stands there shaking, her face flushed and eyes wide. Then Miranda’s mouth moves against hers, so gently that Andy barely notices it. Andy’s heart soars with hope, silently cheering to herself.

 

Then the elevator dings and they jump apart. Miranda all but runs out, Andy left staring at her retreating back in disbelief.

 

When they get into the car, Miranda is silent and refuses to look at her. She’s still trembling, her fingers absently tracing her mouth as if seeking confirmation of the kiss. Accepting defeat, Andy turns towards the window and pretends to be interested by what she sees outside. At the sound of the privacy partition going up, Andy glances at Miranda out of the corner of her eye, who is still facing the window.

 

“How long have you known?” Miranda’s voice is sharp, cutting into Andy like a knife.

 

Andy doesn’t know what Miranda is asking, but then again this whole day has been one confusion after the other. She decides that a stupid answer is better than none at all. “I don’t know. Since Paris.”

 

“I didn’t think you’d ever find out,” Miranda says, giving Andy a spooked look. She bites her bottom lip. “Are you going to quit?”

 

“Wait, find out what?”

 

“I think I’ll have to fire you regardless.” Miranda sighs and presses a hand to her temples. Her grey eyes are vacant and a little sad, like they were in Paris. “What do you want from me? Money, a job, what is it? I’ll give it to you if you promise to stay quiet.”

 

Now it was Andy’s turn to stare. “I don’t want any of that. I’m-”

 

Miranda wheeled on her, her eyes smouldering. “Then what is it? Are you going to blackmail me? Expose me? Congratulations on being to first to learn that Miranda Priestly is a—” She cuts herself off and jerks her head back towards the window.

 

A few quiet minutes roll by before Andy speaks up. “You kissed me back.” Unsurprisingly, Miranda says nothing. “You liked it.”

 

“It would seem so.”

 

“But you’re straight.”

 

“Yes,” Miranda snaps. “Because straight women like being kissed by other women.”

 

Andy shifts in her seat uncomfortably. “Okay.” Then, “I’m not straight.”

 

Miranda’s expression remains steely, but something flickers behind her eyes. “You didn’t answer my question. What do you want?”

 

Andy’s heart is beating in her chest so quickly it feels like it’ll burst. “I love you.” Miranda’s face goes pale, her lips parting as if to say something. Then the car stops, and the older woman seems to shake herself out of her reverie.

 

“Miranda,” Andy says, wanting to tell her everything, more than those three words, more than what language is capable of expressing.

 

Then Miranda takes Andy’s face ever so gently in her palms, and tilts her head at an angle to kiss her soundly. It’s earth-shattering— it’s ‘I love you’ and ‘please don’t leave me’ and so many other intangible things that Andy can’t describe but knows are true.

 

“Wait here,” Miranda whispers, her breath warm on Andy’s cheek. Andy watches as she steps out of the car, her long coat whipping behind her as she strides up the steps to the building.

 

___

 

Miranda feels like she’s glowing inside and out. Everything is right and she can’t stop thinking about how Andrea’s even softer and warmer than she thought she would be. She gazes at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. ‘Lesbian’ is still clumsy and new. ‘Dyke’ will forever be an insult. ‘Miriam’ was never hers. Miranda still feels like a stranger in her own skin.

 

But there’s ‘Andrea.’ And that’s all Miranda needs right now.


End file.
